And The Skyrim Comes Falling Down
by AyutaYutyl
Summary: They just wanted to go on adventures - see the world, gain renown, and maybe pick up some gold on the way. Then again, life is never that simple, is it? It'd be boring if it was, though. [Skyrim x Gravity Falls AU]
1. Act 1: Chapter 1

**ACT 1: Chapter 1**

 **\- The Beginning -**

* * *

 **Inspired by Markmak's 'Skyrim Falls' artworks in deviantart. I recently picked up Skyrim again, and I just finished watching both seasons of Gravity Falls. I've always wanted to try writing stories for both of them, so I thought, eh, why the hell not.**

 **Anyways, on with the story!**

* * *

Perched above a cliff on the far northern side of Skyrim, the College of Winterhold was a sight to behold, a majestic albeit scarred castle that housed those who chose to walk the path of sorcery and study the wonders of magic. Such was the impression to those who travelled far corners of the Nordic province of Tamriel to set their eyes on the famed College, and travellers were growing far and few between. The blizzards grew heavier this time of year, while bandits and other things foul prowled the roads, further dissuading its denizens from leaving the comforts and safety of their homes, such as they were.

At least, that's what he understood from his many books that filled up his half of their living quarters, stacked haphazardly in messy piles across his expansive bookshelf. Charts, open scrolls and other various diagrams of the arcane were nailed to the wall, with little use of magic to hold them in place.

With a small yawn the young Breton stretched, wincing slightly as he gingerly stood up, his rear flaring after sitting down for many hours. Dawn was still hours away, though further sleep seemed to elude him, courtesy of growing excitement for the day ahead, for today marked the Pines twins' nineteenth birthday, the stage of life that bestowed youths of Skyrim lawful recognition of adulthood. And that came with certain perks the twins decided to make the most of.

Closing the book he set it back in its place on the bookshelf, fondly recalling the many years he has spent in the company of his vast collection, the many nights of comfortable studies. Though it was impractical to bring them all with him on their pilgrimage, they were nonetheless his prized possession. Still, as long as he entrusted their safekeeping to the right person, he had little to worry about, though the same could not be said for his sister's. Herbs and other peculiar 'organic' alchemical ingredients had much shorter shelf life than books, after all.

Said sister mumbled incoherently in her sleep, muffled under her fur blanket dyed with strange hues of pink and purple swirls, similar to the pattern of her robe hung on the wall next to her bed. Her oddities extended beyond her choice of garment design; in place of shelves filled with tomes – as students of wizardry were wont to do – several cupboards occupied much of her half of their quarters, one filled with various alchemical ingredients and reagents, another with bottles and vials of varying sizes and shapes, some filled and others empty. Despite its close ties to magic, alchemy in general was, more often than not, left out from various college curriculum. As such, she was one of the few who studied alchemy within the college, and much of what she knew, she learned from books and occasional visiting alchemists from different corners of Tamriel.

Still, lack of formalised training certainly bore their marks in the form of scorch marks on the stone walls and strange array of scents that found permanent residence within their section in the Hall of Attainment. Suffice to say, there were many memories tied to their shared room of years since childhood, both good and bad.

Hours later Mabel stirred awake at last, slowly wiping the last vestiges of sleep from her eyes. "Morning, Mabel."

"Morning, Dip," Mabel yawned. "Been burning midnight oil again?"

Dipper shook his head. "Nah, just couldn't sleep. That reminds me, happy nineteenth."

The young Breton's lips curled into a wide grin. "Happy nineteenth, broseph. Awkward sibling hug?"

Dipper laughed. "Awkward sibling hug."

The Pines twins embraced one another, ending their long-held familial shows of affection with synchronised "pat, pat."

"So, what's the plan? Do we leave as soon as we tell the Arch-Mage, or do you want to wait around for some cake, first?" Dipper asked, fully aware of his sister's notorious sweet tooth.

"Like you need to ask, Dippin' sauce! No adventure starts without a good cake or few!" With the declaration she threw on her robes, just as he donned his. It was a standard attire given to apprentices, imbued with traces of magic that grew fainter over the years.

The Pines twins headed for the Dining Hall, located several floors above the Hall of Elements, connected by spiralling stairwell. It was still a little early in the morning, as only a few seats out of many were occupied. They chose to settle in their usual spot, a table sequestered in the corner, close to the door that led to the kitchen.

"Well, look who's up early!" The twins looked up to see their favourite chef, Lazy Susan, hovering near the table. "My favourite twins! Happy birthday, dears!"

"Aww, thanks Sue!" Mabel said as she invited the older woman for a hug.

"Thanks, Susan," Dipper said.

"You're welcome, dears." The lazy-eyed chef sniffed. "Seems like only yesterday I was baking cakes for your tenth birthday. You children grow up so fast, I swear."

"Speaking of which, any chance you could-" Mabel trailed off with a hopeful look.

The chef laughed. "Of course, dear! I left it sitting in the oven, should be done in a jiffy! But no sweets before breakfast!"

Mabel groaned good-naturedly. "Yes, ma'am."

Lazy Susan headed back into the kitchen, while the twins waited for their breakfast. Though it was possible to convert base ingredients into desired dishes, Lazy Susan was the kind of woman who preferred non-magical means of cooking. Homemade dishes, she once told the twins, could not be replicated by any magic. Many, the twins included, wholeheartedly agreed with her once they had a taste of her non-magical cooking.

"This seat taken?" Onmund, another fellow apprentice mage, asked as he sat down across the twins.

"Morning," Dipper and Mabel greeted in unison, earning a chuckle from the young Nord.

"Thought I'd see you two here. Good thing I checked, otherwise I could've missed seeing you two off. Oh, and here," the Nordic mage dug into his satchel, and took out two bundles wrapped in cloth.

"Oh, how did you-" Mabel unwrapped her bundle, revealing several balls of yarn in various colours, and a sewing kit. "Where did you get these?"

Dipper's present was a book in leather bindings. The cover was too faded to make out the title, but the pages within were still in superb condition, and his eyes widened in surprise as he recognition set in. "Whoa, this is-"

"You once told me you liked knitting," Onmund sheepishly pointed out. "And I remembered how you wanted to get your hands on books about enchantment for some time, so…"

"Oh my gosh, thank you SO MUCH!" Mabel reached over the table and wrapped her arms around the surprised Nord.

"That's really thoughtful of you, Onmund. Thanks."

"Glad you liked 'em." Lazy Susan brought over their breakfasts then, and the trio dug in. More mages trickled into the Dining Hall, and their table was joined by their friends, some with gifts and others without, but all of them wished the twins happy birthdays. When Lazy Susan was finally done with her cake, the twins invited her to join them as they cut it into small slices, inviting the rest to help themselves to the treat.

The bell tolled, signalling the start of the morning lectures. The group of friends dispersed, each heading off to their respective classes, though not without bidding them good fortune for their pilgrimage.

"Remember to wear this on your neck at all times," J'zargo purred as he pointed at the pendants that now hung around the twins' necks. "J'zargo's friends travel around as trading caravans. They see your necklaces, they'll know you're J'zargo's friends. They'll give you a good rate, if you fancy some rare baubles and trinkets."

"You rock, J!" Mabel smiled, a gesture returned by the only Khajiit mage of the College.

"Before you go, J'zargo wonders if you'd like to trade one of those cotton balls with one of J'zargo's scrolls…"

Dipper shook his head, but quietly watched as his twin bartered with the sly Khajiit. He surreptitiously prodded the amulet, a minute sigh escaping his lips when nothing happened. Given his mischievous tendencies, Dipper didn't think the Khajiit wasn't above a little prank as a parting gift, which was probably why he got on so well with his sister.

"Some things never change, hmm?" Brelyna commented from the side.

"You got that right," Dipper said.

The Dunmer mystic nodded. "So, pilgrimage, huh? Looking forward to it?"

Dipper smiled. "We've been waiting for this day for months, so yeah."

Brelyna chuckled. "Ah, to be young again. It's been a long time since I felt any real excitement. Oh, don't give me that look, you know we elves have longer life span than you humans."

"It's the voice. You can't blame people for not taking your age seriously when you sound like that," Dipper shrugged. The bell chimed again, prompting them to rise to their feet.

"Guess that's our cue." Dipper stood up just as Brelyna stuck out her hand. "Huh?"

"For luck," the Dunmer said. The young Breton took it with a firm grip. "Good luck out there, Dipper."

"Thanks, Brelyna." The Dunmer took her leave, as did the Khajiit. With a final wave Dipper looked around to see Mabel with Onmund. Remembering the history between the two, Dipper wordlessly motioned to his sister that he would wait for her outside. She flashed him a grateful smile, before addressing the nervous Nordic mage.

"What is it, Onmund?"

"Mabel, I just, I know that things didn't really work out for us back then-"

"Onmund-"

"Hold on, let me finish, okay?" Mabel nodded, and allowed him to continue. "What I wanted to say was, that even though we may not go back to how we were, you'll always be important to me. So can you promise me that you'll take care?"

"I will, don't worry about me," Mabel replied softly. "And thank you, Onmund."

"Safe travels." With that the Nord left. Mabel waited until she could no longer hear his footsteps, before leaving the hall through the same way.

"All done?" Dipper asked gently. He was aware of her relationship with the kind Nord, and how it ended. He never delved too deep into the matter, respecting Mabel's need for privacy.

Said twin nodded. "Yep, just smoothing things over." Nothing more was said as the twins headed back into their rooms to sort through the gifts, picking out the ones they wanted to take along on their pilgrimage, leaving the rest behind. After that, it was a simple matter of making their towards the Arch-Mage's quarters. The door opened just as they attempted to knock, almost as if they were expected.

"Ah, Dipper, Mabel, come in, come in." Savos looked up as the twins entered, setting down his quill.

"Headmaster Savvy!" Mabel greeted with enthusiasm, decorum be damned. Dipper rolled his eyes, all too used to Mabel's eccentricity. "Morning!"

So too did the Arch-Mage, as he simply grinned in response. "Yes, good morning to you too. Please, sit. Tea?"

Dipper politely declined. "With all due respect, Arch-Mage, I believe you know why we are here."

The aged Dunmer sighed, noticing the satchels the twins carried. They also had their heavy fur cloaks on, the kind of apparel mages wore only when they had to brave the bitter chills of Skyrim. "Yes, I'm aware. Personally, I'd feel much more at ease if you postponed your pilgrimage until you have furthered your training, but as it stands, from this day onward, the two of you are, by law, adults, and I have to respect that."

"We've been studying and training for this day, headmaster. Trust us; we're ready."

"Yeah, what he said!" Mabel piped in.

"Perhaps," Savos said as he returned to the parchment he was working on moments prior, placing it inside an envelope and sealed it, before he slid it towards the twins. As Dipper took it, Savos took out a scroll and unfurled it, revealing a map of Skyrim.

"For your safety, it would be suitable if you were to begin your journey from the Guardian Stones," The Arch-Mage pointed at the small mark near the southern section of the icy province, "and receive the Mage Stone's blessing. Rather fitting to mark the beginning of a mage's pilgrimage, don't you think?"

"Wow, that's so far away from here!" Mabel exclaimed as she pointed at the dot on the map practically on the other end of the map. "But how will we get there?"

"Why, teleportation magic of course. Given how the Standing Stones are saturated with magicka, it isn't difficult to establish a link to here in the College," Savos answered. "That being said, it would be in our best interest to keep that information strictly confidential."

The Pines twins nodded. "And the letter?"

"For an acquaintance of mine who goes by the name of Farengar Secret-Fire. He was once a scholar in the College many years ago, but left some time before you two settled in. Now, he serves as a Jarl's court wizard in Whiterun," Savos said. "Give him the letter, and he is sure to help you with your pilgrimage. Just a word of warning, he can be somewhat… odd, to put it kindly."

Dipper snorted as he gestured at Mabel. "I've shared a room with her for years already, can't be anything I haven't seen or heard already." He winced a little when she viciously poked him in the ribs. "Ow!"

"So, when can we leave?" Mabel cheerfully asked.

"The conduits have already been set up, you can leave right now if you wish to do so." Savos rose from his seat, folded the map and handed it to Mabel. "And here, you'll need it more than I."

The Dunmer Arch-Mage reached for his staff, and pointed at the stone glyph circle near the entrance. "Take your places on the rune, if you will."

The Breton twins obeyed, and as they did the circle began to glow in faint hues of blue, humming with energy. "Close your eyes, children, and remember, good luck."

There was a flash of light, accompanied by an odd sensation of weightlessness, before everything faded to white.

* * *

For one Wendy Corduroy, there was an overwhelming surge of white, before her eyes adjusted back to her normal vision. The Helgen Keep was scarcely lit, and the subsequent parts of the cave even less so. All the same, it felt refreshing to smell the Skyrim air again, in all its frigid, harsh glory.

"Wait, get down!" Her companion hissed in warning, and the redhead immediately threw herself into the nearest shrubbery, mere moments before the dragon's terrifying roar echoed above them, before flying off into the distance.

"Looks like it's gone for the time being. I'd rather not stick around, though. If that dragon ever happens to circle back, it'd be best to be far away from here," Hadvar commented.

"Works for me," Wendy agreed. To be unintentionally saved from her unjustly head-lopping by a dragon, only to wind up dead at the hands (or claws, or the equivalent of it in dragon standards) of the same dragon, the irony was hard to miss.

Hadvar nodded. "There's a small town not far from here, called Riverwood. My uncle, Alvor, lives there, and he'll more than welcome us."

"They got a tavern there?" Wendy asked.

"There is one, called Sleeping Giant Inn," Hadvar said with a shrug. "I've seen inns that serve much better ale, but it's refreshing enough, if you'd like to try a pint."

"After the hell we just went through, I'll need more than a pint," the redhead groaned, shuddering as she recalled the thrice-damned spiders that were too damn large and too damn aggressive. "Yeah, definitely more than a pint."

"In any case, I couldn't help but notice how you handled yourself back there," the Nord jerked his head at the war axe strapped to her hips in leather straps. Its blade was still wet with the blood of the Stormcloaks that tried to prevent their passage. "Are you a soldier, by any chance?"

"Wha- me? Ha!" Wendy snorted. "Naw, but reckon my pa was, back in the day. He was the one who taught me how to swing an axe, and not just to cut trees down."

Hadvar regarded her with an evaluative look. "All the same, I have to say that was rather impressive. The Empire could certainly use people like you, more than ever, times being what they are." Wendy shot him an incredulous look, and he raised his hands. "Yes, I know we made a mistake and that nearly costed you your life, but I assure you, not all who fights for the Empire would've done what that woman did."

Wendy frowned, but grudgingly agreed. He, at least, seemed genuinely apologetic when the bitch tried to get her executed along with the rest of the Stormcloaks, despite Wendy protesting how she _wasn't_ with them, could Imperial not tell how she wasn't wearing their signature armour, and whose backside she had to suck up to get promoted as a captain. Naturally, the Imperial woman wasn't amused with the diatribe. Not that it mattered in the end, as Wendy last saw her roasted alive in dragon fire.

"Yeah, nah. I don't care much for all this civil war crap. No offence."

"It's your choice," Hadvar said simply. "Still, the offer stands."

The two began walking downhill in silence, Hadvar in front. It was an odd sight; there was a town engulfed in fire and reduced to rubble by a creature of legends on the other side of the hill, a stark contrast to the peaceful wilderness that surrounded them, almost as if nothing catastrophic ever happened. Hell, even she still couldn't fully believe it; so much has happened so fast.

And to think that it all started when the lure of wanderlust grew too strong for her to resist. Then again, she was a Corduroy, and adventure was often part of their identity. Her father and brothers stayed true to their blood, and she'd be damned if she didn't do the same.

As the road winded around the corner overlooking a cliffside, a thin column of light beamed down from the sky, landing not far from where they stood. Curiosity getting the better of her, she decided to investigate, vaguely noting Hadvar following her lead. The path led to a small clearing at the end, marked by three menhir-shaped stones erected on rocky foundation. Huddling near one of the rocks, her eyes landed on two figures in robes, hoods covering their faces. The stone lit up, and its light enveloped the two individuals, before it faded.

"Uh, 'scuse me?" Wendy carefully approached them, unsure how to address the folks in strange garments.

The two robed individuals drew their hoods back, and Wendy was a little surprised to see how identical they looked. _'Twins,'_ she thought. And rather young, too, definitely younger than her, given their unblemished, smooth skin.

"Of course, the Guardian Stones," Hadvar commented as he stepped into view. "I've seen many people passing through Riverwood to see these Stones with their own eyes. Judging by how you're dressed, I take it you're both mages?"

The twins looked at each other in silence, communicating wordlessly with small nods and knowing looks. "We are, good sir," the male twin replied politely. "May I enquire as to whom we're addressing?"

"My name is Hadvar, soldier of the Legion," the Nord started.

"Um, Gwendolyn, but you can call me Wendy," the redhead said. "Oh, and I'm not like this guy, so…"

"Hadvar, hmm?" the female spoke up for the first time, her tone coy and a tad playful. "That's quite a… masculine name, and you're a soldier, too." The girl hummed, grinning.

Hadvar scratched his cheeks, embarrassed. "Uh, not at all, ma'am."

Mabel waved him off. "I'm a lady, mister, and a young one, too!"

"Ah, my apologies then, miss…?"

"Oh, where are my manners? I'm Mabel, but you can call me whatever you want, handsome!" She finished with a wink, giggling when the Nord looked away, a tad embarrassed.

"Mabel…" Her twin groaned in exasperation.

"Oops, my bad! This is Dipper, but you can call him 'Dippin' sauce'!"

Dipper shook his head. "That's not what I meant, sis." Looking at the Nord, Dipper tried to reassure him, "sorry about Mabel – she just likes teasing people. She doesn't mean anything bad by it, though."

"I-I see." Hadvar cleared his throat. "In any case, there's a town called Riverwood not far from here. Night will fall soon, so would you two like to accompany us?"

"Sure thing! Lead the way, sir!" Mabel answered for both of them, and fell in step next to Hadvar as they tread the path following the river. Dipper shook his head, a gesture that saw frequent use when in the company of his sister, but didn't object. They spent a considerable time traversing the otherworldly planes, guided by the link of transportation magic. He could certainly do with some good food and someplace quiet to read and relax.

Wendy cleared her throat. "So, uh, Dipper, was it?"

"Oh, uh, yes?" Dipper stammered. "Wendy, right?"

The redhead smiled. "Yep, nice and short. Easy to remember."

"True, though 'Gwendolyn' carries an air of nobility to it," Dipper said. "You're not, well, a highborn, are you?"

Wendy snorted. "Would a prissy noble be dressed like _this?_ " She emphasised as she pointed at the leather hauberk that has clearly seen better days. His eyes traced over the still slightly damp blood marks, widening slightly as he saw the bloodied axe she strapped to her hips. She noticed that he noticed, and hastily explained, "bit of a long story. To start things off, did you happen to see a dragon flying overhead?"

"So that _was_ a dragon?" Dipper muttered in wonder. "I've always thought they were simple legends…"

"I knew it! Told 'ya so, bro-bro!" Mabel yelled over her shoulder.

"Yeah, so did I. But I was there, saw the damn lizard up close, too, back in Helgen. Doubt there's much left standing now, after what the dragon did to it. Anyways, we managed to find an escape route, but we weren't the only ones there. A group of Stormcloaks saw me with him," she jerked her thumb at the Nord clad in Legion's outfit, "and thought I was one of 'em, too. And you know how we Nords are; mace to the face first, ask questions never."

"Ah," Dipper nodded along, unsure how to respond to that. It wasn't hard to put the two and two together. "So you fought your way out, then."

"Yeah, they weren't in a mood to talk, and we were kinda in a hurry, 'cause, y'know, dragon and all," Wendy finished with a huff. "And then there was the bit with the bear and them thrice-damned ginormous spiders-"

Dipper gulped. "S-spiders? The Frostbite species?"

Wendy shivered again. "I don't care much for what they're called, so long as I never see 'em again."

"Let's hope so," the young Breton said. He's only seen the spiders as sketches of ink on parchment, and only read of their characteristics. Much anecdotes surrounding these eight-legged nightmares often contained similarities; they were big, they were angry, and half the times the authors, or their companions, sometimes both, never lived to finish writing.

"Anyway, your sister's a riot, I'll tell you that," Wendy said with a light nudge of her elbow.

"She can be a bit… well, forward, especially around good-looking men," Dipper sighed, though she could see affection in his eyes. "Been a habit of hers ever since we were kids. But yeah, like I said, she doesn't mean to harm anyone, most of the time anyway."

"Relax, man. I wasn't gonna badmouth her or whatever," Wendy laughed.

Mabel snuck a glance behind her shoulder, a small smile gracing her lips as her brother made fast friends with the redheaded stranger. Though she never outwardly showed it, her brother's introverted nature made it difficult for him to reach out to others. It took many years of reassurances and encouragement until he broke out of his shell, and even then there were times when he reverted to his old self. It helped that this red-haired woman was a friendly type, someone who made friends easily, like herself.

Speaking of new friends, she turned her attention back to the Nord beside her. "So, did you grow up in this town, Riverwood?"

"I was born elsewhere, but yes, I've often visited my uncle when I was a child. I helped him around the forge, and in turn he taught me the basics of smithing," Hadvar recounted his childhood with a fond smile.

"That sounds nice. Reminds me of our uncle, to be honest."

"Was he a mage, too?" Hadvar asked.

"Yep, he's actually one of the scholars there! He's away on some expedition, though. But he's a powerful wizard, so we know he can take care of himself. Our other grunkle, I mean, uncle, on the other hand-"

Mabel stopped midway when the shrubs on the side of the path rustled. There was a sharp _twang_ , and before Hadvar could draw his sword an arrow pierced him on the chest.

* * *

 **A/N: I think I said it before in my other story, but regardless of whether I did or not I'll still say it; I hate, hate, _hate_ spiders. The first time I played Skyrim, I almost quit because of that one god-diddly-dang cave bit where these _ginormous_ spiders just frickin' drop down the ceiling like they're some kinda angels descending down to spread the will of Jesus Christ. I mean, Jesus Christ, why are those spiders so goddamn big?**

 **Oh yeah, before I forget, Bretons FTW!**


	2. Act 1: Chapter 2

**ACT 1: Chapter 2**

 **\- Riverwood -**

* * *

All hell broke loose the instant Hadvar fell, unmoving. Their assailants leapt out of their covers amidst the foliage, the gleam in their eyes as wicked as the weapons they carried.

"Damn!" Wendy snapped to action, snatching up Hadvar's sword and shield and jumped in front of Mabel just in time to intercept an arrow that could've otherwise hit the young Breton mage. Wendy riposted in kind with a mighty flick of her arm, and the archer, a Redguard, screamed as he tumbled down the hill, the Imperial forged steel sword buried in his chest.

"You bitch!" A large Nord boomed, hefting a battered steel warhammer in his pudgy hands. Mabel quickly muttered under her breath, a deep shade of violet light swirling about in her hand. The Nord's advance was obstructed by a spectral wolf as he struggled to keep it at bay.

"Da hell ya dumbshits doin'?! Git 'em!" The bandit hollered. Two more bandits entered the fray, a scrawnier Nord with a mace, and a Dunmer dual wielding two daggers. They rounded on Mabel first, judging her as the weakest of the group.

With a roar Wendy charged with her shield up, crashing bodily into the Nord with enough force to knock him back. The fierce redhead wasted little time in following through with an axe to the neck, spraying her with blood.

"Wendy!" She heard Dipper cry out in warning, but moved too late to avoid the Dunmer as he swiped at her with his daggers. Burning pain radiated from her main arm, and she lost her grip on the war axe. The dark elf moved in for the kill, when a jet of flame forcefully re-directed his attention.

"You must be a fool to use fire against a Dunmer!" The dark elf snarled as he charged at the male Breton.

"And you're a fool for charging a mage with no back-up." Gathering his hands together he cast another spell, though instead of fire it was a stream of bone-chilling ice. Neither his elven blood nor his flimsy armour of leather could protect him from the choking grasp of ice colder than that of Skyrim itself. When the spell subsided, the Dunmer laid on the ground, frozen solid.

"Gah! Useless! Hurry up and die already!" The bandit yelled in frustration as the lupine familiar dissipated, returning to its realm of Oblivion. Mabel was more than prepared for him, however, as she sent a ball of bright red energy hurtling towards the only remaining bandit of the group. He recoiled from the impact, snarling when nothing seemed to happen, only to stop dead in his tracks as he looked up, quivering.

"What in da hell is _dat?!_ " The bandit cried out, pure terror seeping into his voice as he trembled before the horrors only he could see. Mabel prepared another spell, though there was no need as the bandit lost all will to fight. "Screw dis, I'm outta here!"

They watched as the bandit scurried back up the hill without so much as a glance at his fallen comrades. The moment he was out of their sight the twins hunched over, sighing as tension bled out of their bodies.

"The hell was up with that?" Wendy asked, wincing.

"Illusion magic. Comes in pretty handy from time to time," Mabel declared proudly.

"We should move, and quickly. There might be more of them around, and I'd rather avoid another fight if we can help it," Dipper said as he helped Wendy to her feet. He gasped when he saw the bleeding laceration on her arm. "By the divines, Wendy, your arm!"

"Whoa, it's fine, man. Trust me, it's not as bad as it looks." Wendy tore the hem of undershirt and wrapped the strip of cloth around her arm as a makeshift bandage. "What about Hadvar?"

"He's still breathing, but he's not looking too good." Mabel looked up, her face creased in concern as she rummaged through her satchel. "Damn it, I thought I packed a health potion somewhere-!"

"He mentioned this place called Riverwood nearby, right?" Dipper slung Hadvar's arm over his shoulder and lifted the injured man. "We'll find him a healer or a potioneer, or whatever help we can get for him."

"Here, let me help," Wendy offered as Dipper struggled to keep his balance while supporting the bigger, taller man in full armour. It would've been a rather comical sight, if the situation wasn't so dire.

"But you're hurt-"

"I can still walk, I'm fine," Wendy said, brushing off the mage's concern. Truth be told, her arm still hurt like hell, and it took considerable effort to not grunt when Hadvar's weight pressed against her arm. Apparently, her efforts weren't good enough, as Dipper grew more worried, unconvinced. He didn't turn down her assistance, however.

The rest of the trek was with tense silence, turning their heads around every so often to ensure there weren't any more ambushes by bandits. The Dunmer wasn't dead, merely frozen for a time, and Mabel's fear spell could only affect the target for so long before the effects wore off. Who knew if there were more bandits skulking around, hidden behind the many trees that lined the paved pathway? They weren't in any shape to fight off another ambush, and even then, they were fortunate they survived the encounter. If there were more of them, if there were more archers, hell, if they were accompanied by other mages…

Thankfully, the path eventually led them to a small settlement, its entrance guarded by a modest wall. The gate was laid open, and only a single guard was stationed to oversee the watch duty. He rose from his seat as they neared the gate, and ambled closer when he saw them carrying an injured man.

"What the- Hadvar? What's he doing here? How did he end up like this?" The guard asked. "Who are you people?"

"Bandits," Wendy hissed. "Bastards got the jump on us, shot Hadvar, and tried to kill us."

"Bandits?" The guard cursed under his breath. "This close to the town?"

"Yeah. Look man, either help us carry him or tell us where the nearest healer is!" Wendy snapped.

"There isn't one, not in backwater villages like this anyway," the guard said, frowning. "Although we do have a small trading post, just down the road. They sell healing potions every now and then, go and have a look. I'll have to lock the door, damn bandits."

"Thank you," Dipper said before Wendy could say anything further. As they carried him inside, a burly man with grease-smeared apron ran up to them.

"By the gods, Hadvar? What happened to him?" He didn't wait for their explanation as he carried Hadvar and led them towards a house next to a forge, beckoning them inside. It was a simple abode, the hearth merrily burning, welcoming them with much-needed warmth. A middle-aged woman looked up from a pot, gasping softly when she saw her husband and her nephew-in-law.

"Alvor, is that-?"

"Aye. Can you bring me the potion? Up on the shelf, there," Alvor said as he set down his unconscious nephew down on a spare bed, frowning as he took in the arrow jutting out of his shoulders.

"Hold him down, I'm gonna pull this out." Wendy warned as she helped the blacksmith relieve Hadvar of his armour.

"May I?" Mabel requested politely as the woman found a small vial with red liquid sloshing within. "I study alchemy, so I'm familiar with administering potions."

The woman nodded, and relinquished the bottle, diverting her eyes when she saw Wendy's hand grasping the arrow shaft.

Suffice to say, it was a messy treatment, though the health potion allowed them to at least seal the wound. His palpable pulse also helped reassuring them that the legionnaire was going to survive, at least. Once that was ascertained, and Wendy's arm plied with what was left of the potion, the travellers began their tales, just as Sigrid set the table with their dinner, a simple course of beef stew and bread, though they tore into it nonetheless.

The blacksmith sighed wearily. "Dragons… it's hard to believe they're… I thought they were just legends. If only they stayed as mere legends."

"And the bandits? If they're attacking travellers so close to the village, how long do you think it'll be before they attack the village itself?" The woman, introducing herself as Sigrid, pointed out in concern, her eyes flickering to the small room where their daughter laid, fast asleep.

"I'll go and have a talk with Guy, and Faendal too, if I can." Alvor stood up and reached for his coat.

"We should get going, too," Dipper said, rising from his seat. "The old guard out the front said there was a trading post here somewhere?"

"I wouldn't call it a trading post, it's more like a general goods store. It's just across the road, actually, though I wouldn't expect much if I were you. Word has it that their latest shipment was raided by bandits."

"It wouldn't hurt to look, though, right?" Dipper turned to his companions, receiving nods from both of them.

"Would they have an alchemy station too?" Mabel asked, clutching her satchel. "Hadvar here could do with another dose or few of health potion just to be safe, and it wouldn't hurt to carry some around either."

"An alchemist, eh? Try the Sleeping Giant, at the edge of the village," Alvor directed. "Thanks again for the help. There's not much I can offer in repayment, but my forge is free if you want to use it."

"Y'know, I may just hold you to that," Wendy said, after a quick glance at her inventory. The leather armour she looted from a dead soldier was frayed and worn, though it was unclear as to whether its decrepit state was a result of improper maintenance or the inevitable wear and tear over time. Her iron war axe didn't fare any better, its blade chipped and dented, still slick with blood of the bandits they fought earlier.

Alvor tutted. "Come see me before you leave. I wouldn't feel comfortable letting you walk around Skyrim with your equipment in such appalling condition."

"These ain't mine, just picked 'em up on the way. But sure, why the hell not, eh?"

They parted ways, Alvor lumbering towards the village gate, while Mabel decided to make for the inn. That left Dipper and Wendy to look for the village's only trading store, a two-storey house with an aged sign hanging under a wooden beam. Rapping his knuckles on the door, Dipper opened the door, just in time to see an argument unfold between the store's two occupants.

"…might never know, since we never asked!"

"Because there's no point! You think the Jarl would even bother with this? Or the guards? No, of course they won't!"

The Imperial woman crossed her arms. "Well, what are you going to do, then, huh? If you've got any better plans I'd like to hear them!"

The man slammed his fist on the counter. "We are done talking about this!"

"Um…"

"Oh, a customer," the Imperial cleared his throat, embarrassed. "Sorry you had to hear that. Now, can I help you with anything?"

"Is… there a problem?" Dipper asked tentatively.

The man frowned, before realisation dawned on him. "Ah, you're new to this village, I see. Travellers?" As they nodded, he fell silent, wordlessly eyeing them up and down.

"Dude, what the fu-" Wendy began, when the Imperial cut her off.

"As a matter of fact, yes, there is. I have a job for adventurers like yourself, if you're interested?"

"Let me guess, you want us to help you retrieve your shipment from bandits?" Dipper surmised knowingly.

The pawnbroker nodded. "So you've heard, then. No matter, if you get it back for us, we'll make it worth your while."

"What's the pay?" Wendy piped in. Lucan took out a small pouch and set it down on the counter.

"One hundred septim, think of it as a deposit of sort. I'll keep the rest until you return with my goods." Before either of them could protest, Lucan held up his hand. "And you, young sir, you're a mage, I take it? Or aspiring to be one, perhaps? Either way, I've got a few things you might be interested in." He then bent down and set a few items on the table. It wasn't a lot; two spell books with insignia obscured under thick layer of dust, and a simple ring of silver that glowed with faint traces of blue. Various tomes regarding enchantment helped Dipper recognise when something was imbued with magic. What mostly caught his eyes, however, was a small crystal the size of a fist, seemingly pulsating and alternating between two shades of pink and violet.

"Hang on, is that… No way, where did you get this?" Dipper asked in awe, eyes still glued to the stone.

"It came to our possession some time ago, when one of the mages who stopped by traded it for supplies. That stone, these books, and the ring," Lucan explained. "Don't mean much to us common folks, but I'll bet you magic-users could get more use out of those. Anyway, I'll throw these in to sweeten the deal. What say you?"

Dipper and Wendy shared a glance, uncertain. "That's a fair deal, but, well…"

The woman in yellow dress, Camilla, spoke up for the first time. "How about you come back tomorrow? Give it some thought." Turning to her brother, she asked, "that alright with you too?"

Lucan grunted, pocketing the pouch of gold back into his pocket. "Fair 'nuff. We'll talk more tomorrow, but now, we need to close the shop." Dipper and Wendy showed themselves out, then headed for the inn. The inn, Sleeping Giant, retained the same rustic charm as the rest of the village, and just as quiet, void of patrons save for Mabel's form hunched over an alchemy station in the far corner of the establishment, gentle clanging of mortar grinding against pestle audible over quiet crackling of fire spit in the centre of the main floor.

"Oh, more visitors?" A woman rounded into view with an armful of fruits. "It's been a while since we last had newcomers here in Riverwood."

"Uh, we're actually with her," Dipper pointed at his sister.

"Twins? That's quite unusual," the woman remarked, noticing the glaring similarities between the two mages. "And fellow Bretons, too. Not many of us here in Skyrim, I can tell you that."

"You too?" Dipper said, surprised.

The woman nodded. "Your physique's too lithe to be a Nord, and I'm almost certain you're not an elf. But that's neither here nor there; I'm Delphine, the proprietor of this inn."

"Dipper Pines," he nodded in introduction, "and that's Mabel." Said twin waved from the corner, though she didn't budge from the alchemy lab.

"Wendy," the redhead said, before groaning, "what have you got for a drink? The stronger the better."

"All we've got is ale," Delphine said, before sheepishly admitting, "our selection is usually more varied, but what with the bandits ransacking the merchant caravans, business hasn't been too good lately."

"Those bandits _again?!_ " Wendy cursed. "Fine, give me what you've got, and tomorrow, we go and kick the living crap out of 'em!" She took a bottle from the proprietor, and without bothering to pour it into a mug, drank straight from the bottle as if it was water.

Apparently to her, it tasted like one, too. "Hey, barkeep! Another bottle! I'll need plenty more of these before I can get even a little sloshed!"

The bartender, a Nord with black hair in braids, chuckled heartedly. "Comin' right up, miss."

"Uh, Wendy? Don't you think you should slow down a bit?" Alcohol was virgin territory for Dipper, as he has seldom partaken in its consumption. Curiosity was the main factor that drove him to take a sip out of his grunkle Stan's hip flask, though he immediately came to regret it when his throat felt like it was set on fire. What he did know of alcohol was that it made people drunk, surprisingly.

"You kiddin'? It's been a hectic day, what better way to end it than with a stiff drink or few?" Another bottle slid into view, courtesy of the bartender, Orgnar. Just like the first Wendy tore the cork off with her teeth, then threw her head back, not even pausing for breath as she downed the ale. "Ah, that's the spirit, not literally though."

"I don't know, doesn't seem it'll be too good for your liver."

"And it seems like you've never had a drink in your life," Wendy commented, smirking when he began to stammer a jumbled response. "Oh relax, kid, not like it matters here! Who cares if you're underage?"

"K-kid?" Dipper said in dismay. "I'll have you know I turned nineteen just this morning!"

"Nineteen?" Wendy said, just as dismayed. "Holy crap, sorry! I just thought, you and Mabel just didn't look nineteen!" She paused, then snapped her fingers. "And did you say you turned nineteen just _today_? Why didn't you say so?! Hey barkeep! Bring a few more bottles, will ya? This calls for a toast!"

"No, it's okay-" Dipper managed to utter before the Nord bartender came back with an armful of ale, setting down a tankard and filled it to the brim with the frothy, amber liquid.

"Birthday, huh? First glass is on the house, enjoy."

Dipper gulped. Was the tankard supposed to be this big? How was he supposed to drink all this?

"C'mon, Dipper! Just chug it down, man!" To emphasise her point, Wendy started on her third bottle, finishing it with equal amount of gusto as she did with the first two. "See? Easy!"

With a sigh he reached for the tankard, bringing it to his lips. "Here goes nothing, then."

Bitter. That was the first thing he noticed when the first wave of ale flooded down his throat. It wasn't as uncomfortable as he expected, and it was pleasantly cool, much to his surprise. It wasn't something he wanted to drink on a regular basis, but he could see why so many were partial to it.

"Whooo! Go bro-bro!"

Dipper almost choked on the ale. "Mabel? When did you-?"

"What? I just dropped a potion at Hadvar's, then came back. Didn't you see me walking in?" Mabel said as she took a seat next to her twin.

"Heard it was your birthday today." Wendy filled another mug and slid it across the table, this time towards Mabel. "Bottoms up, girl."

"Ooooh, ale! Haven't had these in a while!" Then, in an act that caught her two companions by surprise, drank it down without a pause.

"Whoa, look at her go!" Wendy cheered. "Go Mabel, go!"

The female Pines set the mug down with more force than necessary, licking the froth residue on her lips with a strange, dreamy look.

"Uh… Mabel?"

"Dip-her!" His twin beamed as if she just noticed him, her face growing unnaturally red. "I feel- *hic* -funnnnnyyyy. No, yous rook punny!"

"O-kay, maybe it's time for you to hit the sack, Mabel," Dipper said, falling into his 'responsible brother' persona, despite the fact that he was seven or so minutes younger than Mabel.

Said twin simply cracked up. "Gud idea, Mabel! Fanks, Mabel!"

Wendy threw her head back and laughed. "Oh this is just priceless!"

The only sober of the three slapped his hand against his brow. "Not helping, Wendy."

"That's 'cause you're not drunk, dummy! Now drink! Drink! Drink!"

"Drink! Drink! Drink!" Mabel joined in, and soon they chanted his name, uncaring how loud they were in their bouts of intoxication.

"C'mon, Dipper! You're a man now, aren't ya?"

"Well, I-I suppose I am, but-"

"Ah well, if you can't hold you liquor, guess you're just not there yet. I mean, Mabel can, so…" Wendy trailed off with a fake sigh, a coy smile on her lips as she grabbed another bottle.

"Booyah! Imma MAN now, ya hear dat!" Mabel exclaimed as she leapt to her feet with another mug in her hand, her unstable gait causing some of the content to spill out. "I'm MAN MABEL… uh, MANEL!"

That got another round of laughter from the redhead, who looked quite intoxicated herself. "I don't know why, but that sounded _so_ wrong!"

"Not from her, it isn't," Dipper muttered. Mabel had no trouble making inappropriate comments without the helpful aid of social lubricants, thank you very much. Then again, that was probably the reason why Mabel made friends so quickly. She didn't seem to care too much about what others thought of her, a strength of character he sometimes wished he had.

"Hey," Wendy shook him out of his reverie by shoving another mug into his hands. "C'mon, man, these ale ain't gonna drink themselves. Not every day you turn nineteen either, so make the moment last, huh?"

The logical part of his brain argued that it was a bad idea. He's seen enough people complain of splitting headaches after a night of alcohol indulgence. The curious, less rational part of his mind, however, was already primed up and ready for a wild night with responsibilities out the window.

"Dude, you know you want to, I can tell," Wendy said with a nudge on the shoulder.

Dipper snorted, but a smile still managed to find its way on his face. It was a strange way to conclude their birthdays, a far cry from their College days, but damned if it wasn't going to be the most memorable one. Good company certainly didn't hurt, either. Raising his glass, he clinked it with Wendy's bottle.

"Yeah, why not? Cheers!"

* * *

 **A/N: Another chapter down.**

 **One time I tried playing Skyrim while watching Gravity Falls at the same time, just for the heck of it. Not even ten minutes after I had vampires and Whiterun guards all on my ass, all because I accidentally nudged some random NPC who got in the way when I tried to hit a vampire, then everybody loses their shit.**

 **Makes sense to me.**


End file.
